Seven or Eight
by ninajunkie
Summary: D/Hr. She doesn't fear the thunder or the lightning. In fact, she loves listening to the rhythmic beating of the rain on her window. She's still not frightened when a man appears in her doorway.


This is just a really short fic I more or less wrote last night during a huge thunderstorm. I edited it all the morning after waking up. Please, if you don't mind, leave me some sort of feedback. Whether you liked it or not. Thanks.

**Seven or Eight**

A war was raging on outside. The glass from the window shook in terror as the thunder battled for dominance. Bolts of lightning blasted, sparking, trying its hardest to outdo the sound with its magnificent sight.

And all the while, she just lay there on her bed, letting her senses overflow with the storm. Her apartment was pitch black, the power been knocked out by the fury of winds. And she had felt no need to revitalize it with her wand. The reporters on the news all said it would be the storm of the summer, their facial features showing more excitement than fright.

She felt the same way, though. She fell in love again with the practically poetic sense of the thunder. But its sound was so alluring, just as much as the bits of flashes that passed through the slits from the blinds. The splashes of the rain had such a peaceful rhythm, even though they sounded angry. They kept on beating against the glass, as if on drums, trying with all their might to keep the music alive. It should have been enough to put anyone to sleep. But no, not her.

Even though she knew that the minutes kept on inching closer to one in the morning, she never bothered to pull the covers back and lay underneath them. Her eyelids still covered her chocolate colored eyes as she dwelled on the ever powering storm. The thunders became louder and the bolts of lightning returned brighter. And before long, they intertwined as if the noise instantly accompanied the flashes, all being rolled into one.

For reasons unknown to her, the shields over her eyes had come open as soon as a frightening boom threatened the air with an instantaneous flash. The cautious side of her mind told her that she should have been frightened by the silhouette of a man in her bedroom doorway. But her reasonable side won the battle over the other, unlike the war outside. Panic did not overcome her senses; there was no need for it. But she was more content than anything. She was eager to see what would happen, because she knew exactly who stood there.

They both knew why he had shown up.

Seven or eight more claps of thunder had passed before he made the first move to become close to her. Her eyes could barely make out the shadow from his body, but it still didn't keep the contentment from jumping around in her stomach. She fought a battle to keep herself from giving into the urges her body wanted. She dared not make a move towards him.

Climbing his way onto the bed from the end, he slowly began to caress the gentle skin on her leg. Making every move carefully, he ascended to the other end, making chaste kisses on her body. He knew those little gestures would do to her, and she knew as well. They felt it, but neither dared to speak. The euphoric feeling quickly increased with every breath and with every needing motion he made. His body hovered over hers as their eyes finally made a connection.

Within that moment, all flashes of lightning and every clap of thunder suddenly became nonexistent within her world. The only thing she saw was him and the only thing she wanted to feel was him.

She never had counted the number of days that had gone by since they last saw each other. Since they had last heard each others voice. He, himself, had guessed it to be seven or eight days.

Without interrupting the connection their eyes had, he slid her night shirt off from bottom to top while moving his hands along her sides. And as his palm and fingers went to affectionately brush the side of her face, she wanted to do nothing more than to reach up and kiss him. It had felt like an eternity since his lips last touched hers. But before she could act upon her desires, his hand gently reached behind her head and released her hair from the trap they had been left in. He slowly admired her beautiful brown hair as he ran his slender fingers through the locks, smoothing them out onto the pillow. He loved the way the golden flecks in her hair and eyes would light up with each flash that peered in through the window.

She couldn't help but noticing how his blonde hair slightly covered his gray eyes, but never taking away the exquisiteness within them. Instead of reaching for a kiss like she had wanted nothing more than to do, her hands reached up to touch his platinum hair, feeling how incredibly soft it was.

Not being able to contain his own urges any longer, his body lowered down so he was able to place a lasting kiss on her forehead. Continuing, he positioned more along her cheeks and her nose and down her soft neck, before finally reaching his destination on her lips.

-BOOM-

Another burst of the battle had emitted as sparks within their bodies had ignited. They lingered in the soft feeling of each others lips and their mouths were slightly open, begging for some salvation from the storm.

His fingers quickly became tangled within her curls as their legs as well turned into a twisted mess of vines. He wanted nothing more than to feel every inch of skin on her body whether it had been his hand that grazed upon it or his bare chest or his lips.

They continued their endeavors as he began to plead with her, saying he was sorry for ever leaving. He put all his words into actions, knowing exactly what to do to receive a reply of forgiveness.

And he continued to apologize, seven or eight more times.


End file.
